I walk over to the bar where Lance is throwing me a sympathetic look. 揑 know, I know. I抦 improvising here,?I say.
揑 seem to recall you being a bit more entertaining when it came to improv.?He chuckles as I school my face into a baleful glare. 揧ou抮e welcome to stay as long as you need. Which doesn抰 look like it抣l be more than fifteen minutes anyway, but open mic doesn抰 start until eight,?he says.
揓ust like old times with the heckling, huh??I sigh. 揟hank you again. I didn抰 think I needed a contingency plan for rain in August.?
All Hazel wanted to do was have a few of her new school friends join her at the water park for her birthday. Simple enough. She抯 at a new school; an excellent school with a bunch of other Deaf students like her, along with many other multilingual kids who know ASL.
She was so excited to have enough friends to warrant a real celebration, and I wanted to make this perfect for her. I did the necessary prep work with the other moms, ensuring they all felt comfortable with their girls under my watch, and I reserved a cabana thing with pizza, cake, ice cream?Hazel wanted to make 慺avors?after attending another L.A. kid抯 birthday last year桰 know, I know, I am groaning at myself here, too. So, after the fever dream that was a foray into the land of Pinterest, we made bags for the girls that contained: sunscreen, goggles, mermaid printed hair ties, and a plethora of snacks that 揻it the theme.?Licorice pool noodles, shark gummies submerged in homemade blue jello cups, seaweed chips?Never did I think梑ack when I was in my early twenties and being passed a joint backstage at a Dave Chapelle show梩hat my life would one day involve squeezing melted chocolate onto a Nutter Butter to make it look like a flip flop, but alas, here we are. And most days I love it here.
But then a freak storm came through Los Angeles. A storm that has been crouching and pissing all over us for three days straight. The disappointment on Hazel抯 face when she woke up this morning gutted me. I launched into action mode, made calls to bowling alleys and the local indoor mini golf courses, came up completely empty. Seems it抯 the one day of the year that they抮e at capacity. I checked with our condo complex about reserving their activity center, but it抯 also booked. I even offered a Disneyland day in a fit of desperation, but Hazel抯 face crumpled.
揟oo many lines on a Saturday, Dad,?she抎 signed. 揂nd you hate Disneyland.?
揑 don抰 hate it. And today抯 your day, Hazel.?I signed back with as much forced levity as I could.
揑 just wanted to swim and go on the water slides with my friends. We抳e been talking about it all week.?
揇on抰 worry, birthday girl. We抮e going to have the best day. Let抯 go get your friends.?
Instead of giving her the best day, I am sinking in something that feels eerily similar to stage fright. I cannot think of what to do.
I抎 called Lance, the owner of the comedy club that I first started gigging at梬here my pre-writing comedy career was born梐nd asked if we could come here. I抳e got a pizza order and cupcakes on the way, but it抯 not like I can play music and give them a dance party.
揕ance. I am panicking here,?I plead.
Lance looks taken aback. 揗eyer, all I know is comedy, music, and drinks. Why don抰 you give them a little stand-up show or something??
揥ith what material, man??Everything I抳e written since Hazel was born has been for TV shows and scripts. My old material from my stand-up days is not appropriate, nor is it the stuff that a seven-year-old would consider the pinnacle of humor, anyway. Not to mention, any material I do have would have to be combed through and tweaked so that I could make it less 揌earing Funny?and more 揇eaf Funny.?
So much of stand-up is in the delivery and inflection, even when it抯 subtle. The dips and tones added to voices are what make a C level joke funnier. Take that away, and the jokes had better be sharp if they抮e going to be funny in ASL. Plus, the girls definitely wouldn抰 get (or care about) my nuanced take on the adult single world, which is what my writing and collaboration have been focused on lately.
I turn on the stool when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
揅an we open our favor bags and have the snacks now, Dad? Or do we have to wait until after pizza??Hazel asks.
揋o ahead, sweetheart. Pizza will be here soon.?
She smiles and nods, a good sport as always, but I don抰 miss the hint of sadness in her expression.
揊uck,?I hiss, before I remember myself, and Olive whips her head my way. Shit. 揝orry, Olive.?
揇on抰 worry. I won抰 tell my mom,?She says out loud.
The door to the club flies open. Bright gray light streams in and silhouettes a figure in the doorway, the sound of the pouring rain hits the room in a rush.
揇amn it, I thought I locked that.?Lance growls. 揓ones! The answer, for the millionth time, is NO!?he bellows.
The figure桱ones, presumably條ets the door slam closed behind her before she straightens and stomps over to us.
揕ance. You old fuckwad! Give me my job back or at LEAST let me do my set tonight!?
揌ey. I have kids here,?I say to the girl梬oman梠n instinct. Her hair is flattened to her head, dripping water everywhere, like she抯 just stood in the rain and let it wash over her for hours.
揧ou have kids at a bar in the middle of the day??she says to me, scrunching up her nose. 揝ounds like a well-placed F bomb is likely to be the least of their troubles.?She whips back over to Lance. 揕ance, I apologized. But customers were leaving because everyone else that night tanked. You should be pleased. Tickled, even! I made this place good money that night.?
揧ou abandoned the bar to do a set, Farley.?
揙ne: Because you kept denying me my spot or scheduling me on open mic night instead of letting me have it off like I continuously asked for. And two: Everyone else was dying up there. When I got up, the laughs were so loud that people started piling in from the streets. It was standing room only in this place! Even without the booze people were laughing, Lance. Give me my spot tonight.?She throws me a look that clearly states 搕he hell you looking at?before she turns back to Lance. Then, with a blink, she jerks her head back to me, some of her sopping wet hair splattering across her chin in the movement.
揙h, shit. I know you.?
揧ou do??
揧ou抮e Meyer Harrigan.?Amber eyes grow bigger, and her dark brows shoot up.
揌ow do you know me??I shake my head, confused. She抯 too young to recognize me, surely.
揑 saw you. A couple of times! Okay, fine, not really. But, I have watched every stand-up set you抳e done that抯 available on YouTube probably a thousand times.?
I grunt an acknowledgment, unsure how else to reply.
揌elp me convince him I deserve my spot tonight,?she demands, leaning in eagerly.
揢h, no??It抯 like there抯 a hummingbird in my face, wings beating so rapidly the movement is a blur; it抯 beak needle-like and jabbing at me. The urge to figuratively swat it away is strong.
She looks me up and down, studying my face for something before she glances over my shoulder.
揧ou don抰 seem like a drunk or a deadbeat,?she says.
揟hat抯 nice. You very much do seem like you might be on卻omething.?
She shakes that off with an eye roll. 揑f you抮e not a drunk or a deadbeat, why do you have these kids at a bar for a birthday party??The party hats I picked up on the way must抳e clued her in.
揑t抯 a comedy club, not a bar.?
She smiles wickedly. 揊unny, you抎 think it was just a bar with the shit this guy keeps giving me over closing it down for a few minutes to focus on the whole comedy thing.?She stabs a thumb towards Lance.
I look over at him and snort. Fell into that one.
Lance reddens, but appears resigned as he mutters to his inventory clipboard. I catch movement in my peripheral and spin to see the girl approaching Hazel抯 table.
揧ou guys could at least put some music on for them or something.?
揌ey. No棑 Shit, what was her name? 揓ones. Stop.?
Her steps stutter a bit when she gets over there, pausing as she looks at the side of Daisy抯 head, noticing her cochlear.
揌ow you girls doing today??Jones asks then, as well as signs, and I suck in a gasp. Each girl sits up in their seat, instantly a little brighter. None respond.
揥hose birthday is it here??she asks, and signs perfectly again.
Hazel raises her hand. 揂nd how old are you today??she signs as she speaks.
揝even,?Hazel replies.
揝even?! What the hell are you guys doing sitting in here instead of out celebrating being seven?! Seven puddle jumps, now!?
They抮e all smiling at her, looking a little awestruck. 揗y dad won抰 like me jumping in puddles,?Hazel says with a laugh.
Jones glances around, not overselling it, but making it appear like she抯 searching. She lifts her hands with a smile and signs, 揑 don抰 hear him complaining, do you??and all four of them burst out in laughs.